


The Angel of Poplar

by SupernaturalPhoenix



Series: Semyazza's Series [2]
Category: Call the Midwife, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Itty Bitty Swearing, Yes its Semyazza again, shut up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-10 00:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16460339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalPhoenix/pseuds/SupernaturalPhoenix
Summary: When Semyazza feels her humanity slipping, she travels back to earth to rediscover it again. This time, she travels to an era rich with life; Poplar, 1963.Timothy Turner has never given much thought to God and angels. Sure, they may well be out there, but he's a practical person. Science and medicine are the way ahead for him. Until a certain angel comes knocking at his door.





	1. Chapter 1

Timothy Turner meets his angel at 16. He first sees her at the cemetery, when he visits his mother. Its not often he goes, only on special days like her birthday or the anniversary of her death. Sometimes, he goes with his dad, sometimes he doesn’t.

When he sees his angel, he’s alone. He first catches sight of her golden hair flying in the wind. Its her hair that sparks his interest; its long and loose, billowing just past her shoulder blades. She wears a green dress imprinted with twines of ivy and blue buds. Black stockings guard her legs against the early Autumn breeze. She wears black boots that seem very out of place in the city. Timothy’s been staring at her for at least a full minute before she turns around, as though she feels his eyes on her. She turns her head, and through sunlit strands, he gets a glimpse of her rich, bright brown eyes.

Timothy stutters and hastily averts his eyes. He hears a quiet fluttering of wings. He looks up to see where it came from and the girl is gone. He stares at the tree that she stood under but there’s no sign of her.

 

The second time Timothy sees his angel is in his dad’s car. She’s just standing by the road, watching the world go by. Timothy turns in his seat to see her vanish behind a corner. His father asks him what he was looking at. Timothy just shakes his head and tells him, “Nothing.”

After these encounters, Timothy is desperate for answers. It is the third time he saw her that she speaks. He is taking the scenic route home, past the cemetery. And there she is. Hair billowing, skirt flapping. She stares up at the church intently.

Timothy freezes for a moment before jogging over to her, determined to get to the bottom of her mystery.

“Hey! I’ve seen you before!”

She turns to face him, with a tilted head and a quirky little smile. Her eyes light up as they meet his. “Timothy Turner…” she breathes with wonder in her words.

Timothy frowns. “Who are you? And why have you been following me?” As much as he wants to be angry, he can’t force the inflection into his tone.

The girl sighs despondently. “I think I might’ve done this a bit wrong. My name is Myzza. I was trying to get your attention- but my understanding of human social customs is very limited.”

Timothy stares for a long while. “Myzza?”

The girl nods. “Its… foreign, if you like.”

Timothy shrugs slightly. Just because he’s never heard the name, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. “ _Human social customs_? What does that mean?”

Myzza just sighs. She looks almost ashamed of herself. “When I said my name was foreign, I meant biblical. I’m an angel; the Scholar of Heaven to be more exact.”

Timothy coughs slightly. He knows he’s either being played or this girl needs mental help.

Myzza just smiles slightly. And then her eyes light up with scorching blue energy. Incredible shadows of wings fill the wall of the church behind her. Timothy skitters back, eyes widening in shock.

“What!?” he gasps.

The wings fold and disappear, the glow fading from her eyes. She smiles gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She beckons Timothy to follow her to a secluded spot behind the church and they sit down in the grass. “It was your soul that drew me to you. I needed an escape from my home. I didn’t want to forget my humanity. I scoured the earth for somewhere full of _life_. So, I anchored myself to the most beautiful soul I could find and used it to pull myself to this place. I hope that you’ll forgive me.”

Timothy looks at her confused. “What for?”

“I made use of your soul without your permission.” Myzza says quietly.

“I didn’t feel anything.” Timothy says. “So, it can’t have been that bad.”

Myzza just smiles. She looks up at the sky. “You should get home. Your mother will start to worry soon.”

Timothy nods but frowns. “What about you? Are you staying somewhere?”

Myzza shakes her head. “I don’t strictly need to. I plan on finding a way to integrate. To _be human,_ I suppose.”

Timothy thinks for a minute before making his suggestion. “You could come with me. My parents can find you a place to stay.”

Myzza smiles. “I’d like that.”

They don’t talk as they walk. It’s a companionable silence and they find comfort in it. When they arrive at Timothy’s home, Shelagh frets over how long he took. And then she sees Myzza. She stills as she takes in the sight of the girl. Myzza is endlessly polite, despite her apparent social awkwardness. Shelagh sits her down on the sofa with a cup of tea and some biscuits. Myzza touches neither. Patrick comes home half an hour later, where they sit down at the dining table. Timothy reluctantly allows himself to be shut in the living room with Angela and Teddy.

“Do you have any family to look after you?” Patrick asks.

A soft, sad air comes over Myzza. “My mother is long dead, and my father on the winds.”

Shelagh and Patrick give her sympathetic glances. She just waves them away with her quirky little smile.

After a long while of discussion, the Turner's decide that Myzza would stay with them until somewhere could be found. Myzza smiles and tries to insist that they didn't have to, but they are just as hard to persuade. Myzza gives in and agrees after a while of back and fourth discussions.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

Weeks went by and Myzza still lived with the Turners. She proved to be an exceptional house guest. She always offered to help with setting the table, washing the dishes. Anything and everything, she was up for. What really impressed Shelagh and Patrick was her willingness to interact with the nearly five year old Angela, and even the1year old Teddy.

 

Myzza had been with the Turners for 3 weeks when Shelagh finds her rearanging the files in the surgery.

As the door from the maternity home opens, she jumps, spinning round wildly. Shelagh just stares at her.

"Sorry- your records were out of order. I know a little on filing, and I thought it would be helpful to sort them out. Sorry!" Myzza explains hastily.

Shelagh inspects the drawer she was working on, before giving her a look of surprise. "This is perfect. Where did you learn that?"

Myzza shrugs. "I taught myself I suppose."

Shelagh looks, if possible, even more impressed. She takes Myzza's arm and sits her down in front the desk. Myzza looks nervous.

Shelagh sighs. "You're to old to enroll in school now. Timothy's leaving in the summer. Then he's applying for medical school when he's 18."

Myzza nods. She and Timothy talked all the time. He had brought up his plans for the future a few times.

"You need to start looking for a job, and I might have just found you one." Shelagh continues.

Myzza perks up. "That would be apprectiated."

"I think you'd do very well as a receptionist. You can read and write exceptionally well." Shelagh explains. "I would appreciate the extra help. Would you like that?"

Myzza thinks for a fraction of a second before replying. "Yes, I would. But I don't know anything about medicine."

Shelagh smiles and shakes her head. "You don't need to. You'd need to do file appointments and organise everything. I can teach you, if you'll accept."

This time, Myzza doesn't just smile- she beams. Light dances in her eyes and her face bleeds sunshine.

"Patrick and I have been talking about hiring an assistant receptionist for awhile but we never got round to finding one. We'll talk more about it later with him, but you should be able to start next week."

 Shelagh didn't think she'd ever seen Myzza look happier.

 

* * *

 

 

After Myzza was established at the practice, it became clear that she would be a permanent fixture for the Turners. Not only were the patients fond of her, as well as the Nonnatons, but Teddy and Angela were attached to her.

And then there was Timothy. He couldn't help but be enamoured with her. Not only was he connected to her through knowing who she was, and the fact that she looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, but he found her to be gorgeous.

He couldn't help but notice her body. The dresses she wore clung to her torso and show cased her curves. Despite now being a professional, she didn't style her hair. She just let her gold waves hang down her shoulders. And she was an angel in every way.

She would sneak into his room in the evenings and come to his room and they would talk for hours. Usually they would talk about him and the tales of Poplar, but once a week, Myzza would let him ask about her and her past.

She had negociated the terms of their agreement; for one day a week, Timothy was allowed to ask about Heaven and Angels. She claimed that she had come to earth to escape Heaven and the burdens it held for her. She was trying to be more human, she said.

"What's Heaven like?" He asks one Tuesday. General questions are better because Myzza will usually give him more information.

"Heaven's not one place, not really." Myzza sighs and Timothy knows a long lesson on Angelology is coming.

"Each sould has an individual heaven and they connect to form the main Heaven, as you would think of it. Then there's the angel half. I don't know how to possibly explain it to you- your senses are to dull to fully comprehend it."

Timothy chuckles. "Thanks."

"It wasn't meant to be an insult." Myzza smiles. "But its lovely. It's  _home_."

"But you left?" Timothy inquires. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and she leans into him willingly.

"All angels are technically my brothers and sisters, but only a few I truly consider family. Castiel, Balthazar, Samandriel, Gadreel, Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and... Lucifer. And all but Cas and Michael were resurected during the reconstruction of Heaven. And Cas's been dead at least three times, and Michael was pulled from Hell."

Timothy looks like he wants to ask for that tale, but Myzza smiles and shakes her head. "A story for another time. But they have issues to work through. Gadreel, Raph, Gabe, Mike and Luce especially. And they can't do that while trying to keep me away from it all. And I'm not the only angel on earth. Cas hasn't left in years, Balthazar loves alcohol to much. And I think Lucifer has an old girlfriend somewhere."

Myzza leans on Timothy's shoulder. "I love them, but they need time."

Timothy gives her shoulder a squeeze. "Do they know you're down here?"

Myzza laughs. "If they didn't, Poplar would've been raized to the ground by now.  They may not all agree with my decision, but they all accept it." she relaxes into Timothy's side. "Thank you."

Timothy laughs. "You say that every time you talk about you."

"And I'll say it for as long as you'll have me." She tilts her head to the side. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight!" Timothy calls as she disappears. He smiles into the silence despite himself. He doesn't know why he has an angel, but he doesn't care.


	2. Angel of The Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months after Timothy meets Myzza, she's forced to reveal her secret when her presence puts her new family in danger.

The surgery's closed. Only Shelagh, Patrick and Timothy are there. Angela is at a friend's house and Teddy is with a nanny. Myzza had gone to Nonnatus House to hand over a patient's records. The Turners are just finishing closing up, when the air fizzles and all goes black.

 

Timothy wakes groggily. He tries to move but his hands are bound behind his back. The realisation snaps him awake in an instant. He's still in the surgery. But he's tied to a chair. He glances around him and finds his parents in the same position next to him. Neither are awake.

"Mum? Dad?" he hisses.

Suddenly, something strikes his across the face. A tall, well dressed man his standing in front of him. The man is huge and Timothy can feel the fear crawling through his blood.

"You shut your mouth, boy!" the man growls. He sounds like someone from the slums rather than a manor.

Another man creeps behind him. This one is smaller, with a lethe frame. But he's oily and Timothy knows better than to underestimate him.

The smaller man's hand slides up Timothy's neck and ruffles his hair. "Yes, boy," he whispers in a sickening voice, "You shut your mouth." Timothy cries out as the hand yanks his hair sharply.

The sound startles Patrick into awareness. "Timothy!" The tall man punches him in the stomach. As Patrick groans in pain, Timothy calls out, "Dad!"

"Shut it!" the tall man snaps. "Morgan, wake the bitch."

The small man, Morgan, grins disgustingly and sidles over Shelagh. His hand reels back before snapping forward against Shelagh's cheek. She jerks awake with a startled gasp. Morgan smiles smugly.

"That do, Danny?" he asks.

The tall man laughs. "That will do Morgan. That will most certainly do."

Shelagh glances between her husband and her son, trying to understand what was going on. Morgan and Danny start circling the family. There are other people in the surgery now and they look dangerously hungry.

"Now, tell me," Danny begins, "Where is the angel?"

Timothy feels the blood in his veins go cold. Surely they can't be looking for Myzza. How could they know about her? As much as he wants to believe this is all some terrible coincidence, he can't convince himself.

"What are you talking about?" Patrick demands desperately. He strains to face Danny behind him.

"The _angel_!" Danny roars. "Where is it?!"

"What angel?" Shelagh asks. 

Danny gives an incoherent scream of frustration. "Don't make me leave you for Morgan."

Morgan licks his lips in a terrifyingly unerving way, the same hungry look in his eyes. His pupils dilate rapidly, expanding until his whole eyes turn black. He leans in next to Timothy. The boy recoils instantly. As Morgan moves away, his eyes return to slated grey.

Danny comes to stand before them again. His eyes do the same, jet black filling the empty orbs. "Don't play games with me." he warms.

"We're not playing any games!" Patrick exclaims.

Before Danny can say anyting else, the room rumbles. The lights start to flicker. Everyone stares round in shock. The doors fly open and a very angry Myzza storms into the room. Her eyes fall on the Turners and she softens.

"I am sorry to have lead you into such peril." she murmurs mournfully, before turning to face Danny and Morgan. Another one of the people moves up behind Myzza, with a crowbar in hand. Before any of the Turners can call out a warning, its rammed straight into Myzza's shoulder.

She doesn't flinch.

Instead, her eyes flash with barely contained rage. She reaches up and pulls the crowbar from her body, before spinning on her heel and striking the woman behind her across the face with it. Sparks rain down on her from the fritizing lights.

" _You!_ " Danny growls.

Myzza nods. "Me."

 "Is she...?" Another man questions.

"I am an Angel of the Lord." Myzza declares. At that moment, the lights completely blacked out. The darkness is chased away by the brilliant glow burning from Myzza's body. Her eyes glint with a powerful blue energy. Spreading from her shoulder blades are magnificent shadows of wings. She walks forward with power in her stride. From her hands radiate a dazzling light. Before any of the people can move she is next to them, her hand wrapping around their foreheads. They scream for a moment bedore dropping to the floor. She moves faster than the eye could see between them until every last one lays on the floor. Then the lights come back on and Myzza returns to her normal self. She rushes over to the Turners and snaps her fingers. The handcuffs immediately unlock.

She pulls Timothy to his feet and hugs him tightly. Timothy feels her amazing strength seep in and almost crush his ribcage. However, she lets go of him as soon as she grabds him. She scoops up the handcuffs and examines them. She turns them over in her hands and frowns. "These never would have held me."

She turns to Patrick and Shelagh. "I am so, so _sorry_." She turns to go but Patrick grabs her arm.

"Wait."

Myzza sighs. "You deserve answers. Angela and Teddy are safe and you still have a few hours until they need to be picked up."

Shelagh stares at Myzza from her place kneeling by the bodies. "They're dead." There's fear and distress in her tone. She had never imagined Myzza capable of hurting anything, let alone the slaughter of a dozen people.

Myzza nods morosely. She looks regretful but isn't at all broken up about the bodies she's strewn across the floor. She just snaps her fingers and they disappear. "They were demons. I had to react quickly, or they would've killed you."

"Just tell us _everything_." Patrick says. He leaves no room for argument.

Myzza smiles sadly and nods. Her golden hair falls across her face as she lowers her head. "My name is Semyazza."

Shelagh stands and falls against Patrick's side. "Are you really...?" There's a mix of emotions in her face; fear, hope, curiosity, betrayl. It only makes Myzza hate herself ore for her deception.

"Angel? Yes. Angel of the Lord, no." She scoffs as she says it. "I don't think there are any of those left. It just sounds more impressive. But the point still stands; I'm an angel. I came to earth because I wanted to be human again." She casts a pitying glance at theTurners, Shelagh in particular. "I wanted to be better."

"Better than what?" Shelagh asks.

Myzza sighs. Sorrow leaks from her like sap from a tree. She leans close to Timothy for support. "My brothers. I didn't want to fall down their path. I know what you think of angels, but all we really are is bunch of feathered bitches with a bucket load of daddy issues and a propensity for violence."

Patrick and Shelagh give each other concerned glances. Timothy sqeezes Myzza's shoulder. He hates the self- depricating tone she uses. From what he's learned, she both loves and hates her species, her family, and herself. And he hates it.

"I understand that you'll want me to leave." Myzza says. Her voice is small and close to breaking. She looks genuinely torn up about the tjought leaving. Timothy looked equally distraught. Patrick looked at Shelagh and recieved a nod. "No. We don't."

Myzza freezes in the headlights. "But, I lied."

"You also saved us. And you're not the first person to lie out of fear. You're wonderful at home, and at the surgery. So stay." Patrick tells her in a kind, but firm voice.

Myzza smiles. Its small and soft, but it lights up her eyes like stars. "I'd like that." She raises her hand and snaps her fingers. At once the surgery is restored to its full glory.

"Let's go home." Shelagh says. They have a lot talk about.

As they leave, Timothy takes hold of Myzza's hand and squeezes it. She smiles back. Shelagh pretends she doesn't see their clasped hands in the back of the car. They'll talk about it later.

* * *

 

By the time the arrive at the house, Teddy is asleep and Angela won't need to be picked up for another two hours. Shelagh brings them all tea and biscuits. Myzza smiles.

"I don't eat." She says. A strand of her hair falls over her eye and she speaks like she is apologising.

Patrick and Shelagh look at her in surprise.

"You've eaten here, though." Shelagh points out.

Myzza shrugs and explains. "Its not so much that I can't, it's that I don't. Angels have senses heightened beyond human comprehension. I can taste every atom in the food." She laughs at the horrified looks on their faces.

"It tastes about as good as it sounds."

"But you've eaten here?" Patrick asks, the doctor in him taking over.

"Not often. It doesn't hurt me, it just doesn't taste good. Besides, it's not as hard to pretend to eat as you'd think. All it takes is a little," she waves her finger in a small circle and the tea in the cup disappears, "Sleight of hand."

She tilts her head and thinks for a moment. "I think we should give the introductions another go entirely." She holds out her hand. "My name is Semyazza and I'm the Scholar of Heaven."

Patrick and Shelagh look impressed. Patrick is a lot like his son, preferring science to faith. Shelagh, however, is obviously still very religious, but had never considered that she would meet an angelbefore she died. Still they shake her hand in turn.

"Why are you here?" Shelagh asks.

 "Heaven's... complicated. I needed to leave for awhile. And I- I want to human. For as long as I can."

"What does that mean?" Timothy asks. He does not want Myzza to leave. She's his best friend.

Myzza smiles at his impatience. He hasn't said much, due to everything she's already told him, but some things, she's kept even from him.

"Angels haven't felt emotions in centuries. Not since..." she breaks of, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. But they've only recently learned what free will and emotions are. Its still hard up there.

"Human emotions are powerful and complex. I'm one of the more human angels and I didn't want to forget to feel. So I came here."

"To Poplar?" Patrick questions. He loves Poplar; its his home. But for an angel who could choose anywhere, why?

Myzza nods enthusiastically. "Poplar's full of emotion. _Pure, raw emotion_. Its incredible."

"What happened today...?" Shelagh starts.

Myzza looks very ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry. They hurt you and I caught glimpses of their plans for you- what they were going to do, and I lost control. They were demons and angels are supposed to kill demons."

"I know." Shelagh says. She's forgiven Myzza for the deaths she brought. Even in the Bible, the angels are God's wrath. Myzza was just doing her job. And all the soldiers who fought in the wars who han blood on their hands. Patrick. She didn't blame them. She couldn't blame Myzza.

"And what you said...?"

Myzza looks very much like she wishes she nerver said that. "The angels almost slaughtered each other completely. And the whole Unfeeling Buisness makes for unpleasant company."

But Shelagh isn't done. She's seen so many people bottle up their feelings, never talking about their secrets. She doesn't want Myzza to need to keep lying.

"You said you weren't an angel of the Lord?"

Myzza feels herself break a little, but she won't let herself cry. No. She will do this.

"I'm as loyal to dear old Dad as any angel you're going to find. But I still want to slap him in the face." she swallows against the tears. This talk is something that she desperately wanted, but she is essentially baring her soul. It's hard.

"I don't want to talk about, but let's just say that my father is not everything you believe him to be."

Timothy can see Myzza fight down her emotions. The story of her father is one she's kept hidden from him, so he knows it hurts. He also knows that what he says next will tip his parents off that he knows more about Myzza than he's letting on; but he says it anyway.

"Myzza's superhuman. Its fasinating."

Myzza laughs at the identical looks of intense curiosity Patrick and Timothy share. Shelagh's also just as amused.

"I don't sleep, or need to beathe. I'm faster and stronger and more durable than any human could hope to be. I can fly around the world in half a second. I can't be hurt be conventional means." Myzza lists.

Patrick's eyes are alight with interest, just like Timothy's were when he first heard about her abilities.

"And how long have you known?" Shelagh asks, giving Timothy a very intense stare that he wouldn't lie to.

Timothy gulps, glancing between Myzza and Shelagh several times. Myzza just finds it hillarious, so he assumes its safe to tell his mother the truth.

"The whole time."

Myzza takes over. "I came to him as an angel. It was his soul I used as an anchor to this time. I didn't think it should be kept secret after that."

Shelagh nods knowingly. Her son has fallen well and truly for the angel, and it seems she has fallen even further for him.

Patrick intervenes, unable to hold his curiosity any longer. "So, how does it work? How does your body support your powers?"

Myzza laughs and light fills her palm. Its soft and gentle, like sunlight. "Its called Grace. Angels have it instead of a soul...."


	3. Fallen For Your Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myzza uncovers the attack on the Turners and is forced to choose between her two families.

Myzza had spent days trying to figure out the reason behind the demon attack. It had become her obsession. For a week, she had spent her nights out chasing down any demon who might know about it. Often she came back covered in blood stains. Sometimes it was her own and sometimes it wasn't. Once she came home with her throat sliced open. Eventually, she decided that it was a rogue group, who were to arrogant for their own good. With Hell, as she claimed, under poor manegment, they were trying to buy themselves power. But still she warded the house, the surgery and Nonnatus.

 

It was a week and a half after Myzza revealed herself to the Turners that it goes to hell. In the evening of one cold Wednesday, she tenses. Her head rises up from the book she reads over Timothy's shoulder. Her body is stone still and Grace lights up her eyes.

"Myzza?" Timothy begins cautiously.

Myzza stands in one fluid motion, hand clenching. She tilts her head, as though listening to a frequency the Turners can't hear.

"The wards have been breached."

Her tone is cold and emotionless but it conveys the severity of the situation. She sucks in a ragged breath.

"Where?" Patrick asks.

"Nonnatus."

And then she's gone. She hasn't been hiding her teleporting abilities from the Turners. It was the first thing she stopped hiding.

Patrick and Shelagh give each other very worried glances. Patrick sprints out of the house to the car. "Stay with Angela and Teddy!" Shelagh calls over her shoulder as she races after Patrick. Timothy just sighs at being the babysitter. But he's still worried about his parents, Myzza and the Nonnatus nurses.

* * *

Myzza appears in the hallway of Nonnatus. The first thing she sees is the unconscious form of Sister Winifred slumped on the floor. The young nun is alive so Myzza hurries past her into the chapel.

The nurses are gathered there. Fear is a mask covering their faces. And they are not alone. A man stands before them. He looks very non descript, with dull brown hair and the kind of shirt and trousers that every man in the east end wears. He has rage burning behind his eyes.

"Stop." She commands. Her voice is but a soft breath but it is a command none the less. 

"Miss Shurley." Sister Julienne warns. The man turns around to reveal the silver blade clutched in his hand. 

"Semyazza..." He breathes in awe.

She shakes her head at him. "What are you doing here," she asks, " _Raziel_."

He laughs a little. "She knows my name." He mutters to himself. "I'm taking you home." He says to Myzza.

She frowns. "Of course I know you: you're one of Michael's best soldiers. We don't threaten humans."

Raziel leers at her and steps closer, blade still brandished out in front of him. " You belong in Heaven, Semyazza. I've come to take you home."

"No, Raziel." Myzza says, as if speaking to a child.

"You belong in Heaven." Raziel argues. "With your brothers." He gives a disdainful sneer at the nurses. "You are so much _better_ than than humans, Semyazza. But you're young. You'll learn. Once these mud monkeys are dead!"

At that moment, the Turners enter, with a groggy Sister Winifred strung between them.

"Raziel, I am warning you! Stop. This. Now." Myzza growls.

"Come home!" Raziel cries back, lunging at Myzza with his blade. Before anyone could reach her, she was pulling her own silver blade from her sleeve.

"Don't make me do this." Myzza begs.

Raziel shakes his head. "You _will_ return to Heaven."

And he raises his blade.

Myzza blocks his attack easily. But she hesitates to attack back. Raziel's are alight with grace, but he didn't have the same sense of power that Myzza does. "Please." she whispers.

A low growl sounds from the corner of the room. Myzza whirls around and gasps in horror. "A _hellound_!" She slowly turned back to Raziel.

"Raziel... _what have you done_?"

The growl came again.

"Shelagh, _do not move_." Myzza warns. "Call it off now!" she orders Raziel. Light is burning in her eyes.

Raziel seems to realise the anger coursing through Myzza's veins is dangerous. He steps away from her and flutters away. The growl is more vicious now. Shelagh feels something brush against her leg and freezes. Myzza moves.

She shoves Shelagh across the room roughly. Sister Julienne just barely catches her. Everyone is focused on Myzza. Whatever the creature is, it catches Myzza across the side, leaving deep, ferocious gashes in her skin. She grits her teeth in pain, and slashes at the air with her blade. Though no one can see anything, there's a whimper and a spray of black liquid.

Myzza tumbles to the floor, wrestling and grappling with nothing. The animalistic growls continue. Myzza seems to get the upper hand on whatever it is, and pins it beneath her. She plunges her blade down, to one last whimper and black spurt.

Myzza lets out a long sigh and flops onto her side. She lays on the floor for a long while, panting.

"Are you alright?" Shelagh asks.

"Yeah..." Myzza breathes.

"Are you going to get up...?" Patrick continues.

"Wasn't planning on it..."

Phyllis shoos the other nurses out, but Sister Julienne remains. She kneels by Sister Winifred, who had been left leaning on the wall and was steadily drooping.

Myzza gives one last groan before pushing herself up and crawling over to the nuns. She holds her hand over Sister Winifred. The golden light washes over her and she straightens up. The yound nun rubs her eyes and is right as rain. She turns to Myzza with a look of pleasant surprise on her face. "Thank you."

Sister Julienne is just shocked. "Miss Shurley..." she doesn't even know where to begin.

Myzza grins but it doesn't even come close to reaching her eyes. "Don't bother with the 'Miss Shurley' thing. Myzza's fine. Or Semyazza- if you prefer." She sighs. "I'm an angel. Nice to meet you."

Sister Julienne is just trying to figure out what to say. "Of the Lord?"

Myzza gives a humourless chuckle. "Oh, the irony. If you like. I mean, I'm not really- but whatever."

Patrick kneels down next to her and reaches for her side. "You're hurt."

Myzza shakes her head and pulls the ruined fabric of her dress aside to reveal smooth, unblemished skin. "Not anymore. Angel healing." As she speaks, the numerous cuts and scrathes on her skin knit together and close up.

"Who was that?" Shelagh asks.

Myzza's face instantly darkens. "His name is Raziel. He's part of Michael's guard. I don't know him well; and I never guessed he would be so desperate. To work with demons- a _hellhound_." she shudders. "It was him who launched the attack on your family."

Sister Julienne turns to Shelagh with a worried look. "Attack?"

 

Myzza waves her hand. "Later."

She pulls herself to her feet, brushing of Patrick's helping hand. "I need to find him. Go back to Timothy, Angela and Teddy." She presses her hands against her face. "I've put you all in danger. But I'm going to fix it."

And then she's gone.

 

* * *

 

 Myzza returns late that night. She appears straight into her room. The only reason Patrick and Shelagh even know of her return is the folded piece of paper that flutters down in front of them as they cuddle on the sofa.

_Couldn't find him._

They make their way up to Myzza's room just to check if she's there.

"Myzza?"

The angel's eyes open. She lay on her back, still as stone. It would be so easy to think her dead. She sits up to look at the Turners. "I'm sorry. I couldn't find him. I believe he's left London- he would be foolish not to. I was trying to to track his Grace, but he's warded." she takes a deep, shaking breath and runs a hand through her hair. "He's dangerous. Even if he wasn't trained by Michael; he's still an angel. Be careful. Until I know he's been dealt with, you need to be careful. If he takes another vessel, you won't recognise him."

"Why's he doing this?" Shelagh asks. She heard him screaming that Myzza needed to come home, but she didn't understand.

"Raziel- he believes, from what I gathered, that all angels should return to Heaven. Or at least, those worthy enough." 

"Worthy?" Patrick repeats.

"I'm not the only angel on earth after the Reconstruction. But I am the only one Raziel thinks is worthy eough to return to Heaven. The others, in his mind, are outcasts. I knew that Heaven was still divided, but to go as far as consorting with demons and," she takes a stuttering breath, "Hellhounds, he must be desperate and that makes him even more dangerous. But I don't want to get Heaven involved unless I have to."

"Why not?" Shelagh asks. Myzza looks her dead in the eye, the angel's filled with fear and anger. "Because I'm selfish and I don't want to be told that Raziel is right. But he won't stop until you're all dead, or I've returned to Heaven. He'll try again soon and I'll find a way to stop him."


	4. I Tried To Convince You What Was Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myzza and Raziel face of with Timothy's life in the balance.

Myzza's predictions about Raziel proved correct. It was only the next evening that Myzza stiffens in her seat. Her face takes on a hard, cold look. A flash of Grace bubble in her eyes before she pushes it down. She is still for several minutes, Shelagh and Patrick staring at her. Suddenly, she leaps to her feets, eyes blazing. She says one word.

" _Timothy_."

Patrick and Shelagh stand as well, ready to save their son.

"Raziel has him. In the grave yard. I'm going to fly, but you need to take the car." Myzza instructs.

Both Patrick and Shelagh are nod. They know well enough that they should trust Myzza's word when it comes to any matters of angels.

* * *

Timothy's not sure whats happening. He was on his way home from school, walking past the cemetary, when he was bound the his mother's gravestone. There's a man pacing before him. There's a familiarity in the way he moves and speaks that sets Timothy on edge.

Myzza appears before Timothy, and he sees his guardian angel. Her posture is tense and straight, her face set in stone.

"Raziel!" she calls. "I'm here. Now release Timothy."

Raziel circles her. "And you'll come back to Heaven."

Myzza nods. "Yes."

Raziel breaks the bindings holding Timothy and the human jumps to his feet ad away from Raziel. Myzza claps his arm for just a moment before whispering into his ear.

" _Run_."

And he does. Timothy takes of down to the gates but doesn't go any further. He doesn't want to leave Myzza but he knows well enough to keep away from the angels now.

"There," Raziel says smugly, "He's free. Let us go."

Myzza's chin rises in defiance and she steps back. "No I won't."

Raziel blinks for a moment before exploding. He splutters out, "You _lied_!" He's gesturing madly, waving his arms like a man demented. His eyes flare with grace.

"I'm the Archangels' little sister. Of course I lied." Myzza scoff. Something silver falls from her sleeve and before Timothy can blink, she's holding a silver blade. Now she looks every bit the Warrior of God angels are proclaimed to be.

"Raziel it doesn't have to be this way. You can end it now. The war is over- lets not bring it back." She says with authority and power in her voice.

Raziel shakes his head. He's trembling slightly. "I'm doing this to end the war." He bows his head and when he raises it again, grace is a wildfire burning in his eyes. "If this is the way it must be, then so be it!"

He lunges.

Myzza is faster. She blocks his attack and swings for her own, body bending around him. He dodges, but her footwork keeps him from landing a blow on her. From Timothy's place on the sidelines, they seen evenly matched.

Even though he's terrifyed for her, Timothy can't help but be enchanted by the grace and power Myzza displays. As she twists and twirls, her hair dancesfrom her shoulders like golden flames.

In the back of his head, Timothy briefly registers the sound of a car draw up behind him but her can't take his eyes of the angels. The pattering of footfalls flicker in his mind as Raziel gets the upper hand. He grabs hold of Myzza and drives his blade up into her torso. Her tiny cry rings in Timothy's ears.

A brilliant, blinding white light flashes across the grave yard as Myzza falls to the ground. A fallen angel.

Shelagh and Patrick reach their son just as the light dissipates and Myzza sprawls at Raziel's feet. He picks up her blade.

" _MYZZA_!"

He doesn't know if he just watched his angel die.

His legs are numb.

His head is pounding.

So is his heart.

His parents grab hold of him.

As if he could run into danger when he can barely move.

Raziel is advanced on them. He's furious. His rage spills out of him the a river bursting its banks. "This is your fault!" he yells madly. "Because of _you_ , I _killed_ an-"

"Wrong move."

Myzza stands behind him, poised to strike. Her eyes blaze with cold fury and she lodges his own blade into his spine. He gasps and croaks inb shock and pain.

She whispers, " _I wish it could've been different_."

She twists the blade.

Raziel screams. Light pours out. The Turners turn away quickly, but Timothy's sure he sees great, huge feathers unfurl and cover them. The blast of light only lasts a moment and when it ends, Myzza collapses to her knees. A choked sob forces itself up from her throat, reverberating in her chest. 

"I killed him, I killed him, I killed him, I killed him." she repeats over and over again, choking on the words. "He was my brother and i killed him."

She looks at the scorched imprints of wings in the grass beneath Raziel's body. "I wanted it to stop. I just wanted the bloodshed to _stop_."

Timothy kneels down in front of her and opens his arms. Myzza falls into them and cries her heart out. The Turners sit there for long while until Myzza is spent and limp in Timothy's arms. Patrick carries her to the car. Timothy picks up the blades and lets his mother lead him away from the grave yard.


	5. Heaven Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myzza struggles in the aftermath of her battle with Raziel.
> 
> This is going to be very short.

Myzza comes around after a few hours and immediately leaves to dispose of Raziel's vessel. Her mood doesn't improve and she can't seem to find herself again. Its almost as if killing Raziel has ruptured all of her self worth and confidence.

But its only been a few hours.

The Turners can only hope that this skewered form of grieving will fade with time and not turn into something much worse.

"I have to return to Heaven." Myzza announces tonelessly.

Timothy's face scrunches with stricken confusion. "Why? That was why you fought Raziel in the first place."

Myzza sucks in a sharp breath. "Hopefully not for long. But this needs to reported. Raziel was a member of Michael's guard. There has to be an investigation into whether this was an isolates incident or the workings of a violent faction."

"You'll come back?" Timothy begs.

"Always." Myzza promises.

* * *

 Timothy slides into bed dejectedly. Its been hours since Myzza left for Heaven and he can't help but worry that she's not coming back. The thought pulls knives through his chest. He needs her by his side. He had never thought about it before, not really. He had liked her from the start. She was enchanting and incredible. She was a fighter but she was gentle. She was kind. She cared for the patients at the surgery, she cared for Angela and Timothy. She was intelligent and knew incredible things that Timothy could never imagine.

He is in love with her.

 

And he needs her to come home.

 

"I always will."

 Timothy sits up to see Myzza standing in the corner of his room. The shadows cast her in darkness but her hair shines gold. Her eyes sparkle for the first time since this all began. A soft smile touches her lips. She stands casually, with her arms crossed loosely and slouched against the wall. But even as her eyes glitter, there is something sad in the depths of her beatiful brown pools.

She glides across the room and sits on the edge of his bed. She cups his face with her hand and stares straight into Timothy's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Timothy, that I hurt you. I hated myself because I couldn't convince Raziel of a better way. I fought so hard against the angels killing each other, I couldn't bear to have taken my brother's life. I needed my brothers for awhile. And, for awhile, I needed to convince them that I belonged on earth."

"I didn't know if you were coming back..." Timothy whispers.

Myzza smiles. "I did."

"I love you." Its almost a plead.

"I love you to."

And they're one. Their lips lock and they press together. They have been starved for the touch of the other for to long. Timothy is just begining his life, just starying to understand what love means. Myzza has been waiting a century just to find his soul.

The angel and the human love each other. They are not the first match of the kind, but maybe they can set the path of being able to just be happy together. And maybe thats one of the most important things that God has ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.   
> The chapter titles come from an amazing Supernatural re-write of Imagine Dragons 'Warriors' called Angel of the LORD by Jessye Jennings. She and her songs are amazing.


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